Keep Your Sunny Side Up, PG, Glee, Finn/Rachel
Title: Keep Your Sunny Side Up
Rating: PG
Fandom: Glee
Spoilers: Up through 1x21 "Funk"
Word Count: 1300
Pairing/Characters: Finn/Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes
Summary Finn comes to the rescue after the parking lot fiasco. Just a little missing scene from the last episode that sprung from my head in like, an hour. Hope you enjoy :)
Finn is the one to see her in his periphery as she races back inside McKinley High and straight to the girl's bathroom, egg yolk running down her face like tears. He turns to Quinn and Mercedes, both of whom look at him with shocked eyes and a smoldering fury in their hearts that Finn knows all too well.
"Vocal Adrenaline," is all that Mercedes says. Quinn tightens her hands into fists.
"I'm going after her," Quinn declares, taking two steps and then clutching tightly at her belly. "Oooh." Finn's eyes widen, and Mercedes puts a steady hand out to assist the pregnant teen. "Finn, go make sure Rachel's not hyperventilating in there. She could aspirate some egg yolk, and then be hospitalized for regionals," Mercedes orders as she directs Quinn to the nurse's office. "Mercedes I'm fine, this happens all the time--" says a protesting Quinn as she's manhandled away from the scene.
Finn gulps and enters the girl's room.
There's a girl from the chess club washing her hands who screams at his presence and then flees. Rachel is locked in the handicapped stall: Finn can tell by the argyle knee-highs that peek out from under the door.
"I feel weird being in here for too long... can you come out Rachel?" Finn asks plaintively. He genuinely wants to help her, but he also really doesn't want to get expelled by Figgins. The principle seemed to have it out for him since the tire slashing and all.
The door clicks unlocked and inches open. A soggy Rachel exits.
"More like Tony Curtis in Some Like It Hot. Making me Marilyn," Rachel remarks snappily, but the light behind her words is muted. She's covered in egg shells, yolk, and serum. Taking a small hand, she tries to clear her face of the mess but it's too sticky. Finn takes his own hand and brushes her hair behind her ear, yolk and all.
"Marilyn Manson?" Finn asks, suddenly envisioning a very different version of Rachel Berry in front of him. Namely, one with more eyeliner and less eyebrows.
"Monroe. You know, happy birthday Mr. President...," Rachel half hums, sadly. "The sexy blond."
Finn smiles. "Well, you're halfway there: all you need's a bottle of hair dye and you're golden. Literally."
Rachel smiles. "Thanks for participating in my pity party, Finn, but you can go now. I've got to wash my hair out anyway before the ghosts of the baby chickens from inside these eggs come at me with a vengeance." She heads toward the sink.
"I can help you," he says. She looks up at his reflection in the mirror. "Ever since slushy wars, I got real good at cleaning crap out of my hair. I figure you could use the help... you've got a lot more than me. In a good way."
"Always the charmer," Rachel says, a small smile on her face. Finn pulls up two chairs to the sink and has Rachel lay her head back, hair in the sink. He turns the water on, lets it run hot. Steam fogs up the mirror. The girl's bathroom is silent for a few long minutes, just rinsing and combing with big hands and stubbly fingernails. Rachel closes her eyes and tries not to cry. It's hard.
"He called me out to the parking lot. I should have known something was wrong. I was just... so hopeful. That things could be back the way they were." Rachel stops and clears her throat. "The way he looked at me... as if I did something wrong." Rachel opens her eyes and stares up at Finn. "Did I do something wrong?"
Finn is quiet for a moment. "You've done a lot of things wrong in the time that I've known you: bossing people around, spying on Vocal Adrenaline, being more than a little obsessive in the brief time that we dated... but now, in this moment, in my book, which is the only book that counts, you're in the right. Yes, 'Run Joey Run' hurt my feelings, but not enough to explain what Jesse's been putting you through. The difference here is that Jesse doesn't love you, and he never did. His whole persona, the guy you fell for--it's a sham. A lie that he concocted with your mom. He created this melodrama that he lives inside, with you as one of the pawns in his game. I'm actually pretty sure he's even more of a diva than you are." Finn lets out a low laugh that Rachel reciprocates. "You deserve better than a lie. You're not a pawn. You're the queen, Rachel."
It all flows out like he's been planning it for months, but honestly Finn isn't even sure he knows what half the words he's spouting out mean, but somewhere along the line he sees Rachel's eyes widen and knows that he's somehow gotten through to her. Indirectly, Finn feels as though he's told her everything, even though he's only talking about that bastard St. James kid. Rachel sits up, her hair slick, clean, and wet, dripping down her back.
"Sometimes I think I do deserve it. For falling for the trap, I mean. I mean, you all told me that Jesse was playing me right from the start, but I ignored you--" Rachel's voice catches in her throat. "We sang Lionel Richie together the day we first met. God, we were good."
Finn scootches his chair closer to Rachel's. "You know what? As good as you might be together, as great as his talent his, no matter how much better he is than me technically... you know and I know that our chemistry is untouchable. Anyway, Rachel, anyone who makes you 'good' is doing you a disservice. You're great."
He leans in slow, a hand on each side of her face. First the tip of his nose touches her lip, which trembles at he approaches. Then their lips meet, and all is quiet.
For Finn, this kiss is a promise of protection. A chance to both build a fortress around Rachel that no one else can penetrate, and fill that castle with love and affection. Because not only is he a good guy, he is her guy, and has been for quite some time. In the back of his mind he's reminded of how he felt when he was with Quinn: a longing to protect, a desire to step up and be a man.
When they finish, Finn smoothes a tear away from her cheek and helps her to her feet. "I have some extra clothes in my locker. You'll be swimming in them, but they're better than the reminder of dead baby chickens, right?" Rachel sniffs and nods, tucking herself into his side as they exit the girl's bathroom.
"I guess that will make me Tony Curtis... I suppose I am unsurprised that you have flip-flopped my metaphor so that you are now the sexy blond. Touche."
Finn grins and pretends that he knows who Marilyn Monroe is besides the curvy figure and that photo of her dress going up. He is, however, content that she, Rachel, is looking up.
Outside the bathroom, Mercedes and Quinn are waiting, metaphorically (and literally) tapping their feet.
"I had to give five dollars to that chess club girl to stop her from going to Figgins about Finn and his man-parts in the girl's locker room," Mercedes informs them. "Y'all owe me two-fifty each."
"St. James will pay," Quinn growls mercilessly for Rachel's benefit. She takes one of Rachel's yolky hands. "You have my word. I'll have my water break on his patent leather shoes." Rachel laughs, loud now, and the four Gleeks walk down the hall together, united.
addendum
"I thought you were at the nurse? Didn't your stomach hurt?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
A wink between two friends. A smile between new (and old) lovers.
"You girls are good."
"Damn straight."
Rating: PG
Fandom: Glee
Spoilers: Up through 1x21 "Funk"
Word Count: 1300
Pairing/Characters: Finn/Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes
Summary Finn comes to the rescue after the parking lot fiasco. Just a little missing scene from the last episode that sprung from my head in like, an hour. Hope you enjoy :)
Finn is the one to see her in his periphery as she races back inside McKinley High and straight to the girl's bathroom, egg yolk running down her face like tears. He turns to Quinn and Mercedes, both of whom look at him with shocked eyes and a smoldering fury in their hearts that Finn knows all too well.
"Vocal Adrenaline," is all that Mercedes says. Quinn tightens her hands into fists.
"I'm going after her," Quinn declares, taking two steps and then clutching tightly at her belly. "Oooh." Finn's eyes widen, and Mercedes puts a steady hand out to assist the pregnant teen. "Finn, go make sure Rachel's not hyperventilating in there. She could aspirate some egg yolk, and then be hospitalized for regionals," Mercedes orders as she directs Quinn to the nurse's office. "Mercedes I'm fine, this happens all the time--" says a protesting Quinn as she's manhandled away from the scene.
Finn gulps and enters the girl's room.
There's a girl from the chess club washing her hands who screams at his presence and then flees. Rachel is locked in the handicapped stall: Finn can tell by the argyle knee-highs that peek out from under the door.
"I feel weird being in here for too long... can you come out Rachel?" Finn asks plaintively. He genuinely wants to help her, but he also really doesn't want to get expelled by Figgins. The principle seemed to have it out for him since the tire slashing and all.
The door clicks unlocked and inches open. A soggy Rachel exits.
"More like Tony Curtis in Some Like It Hot. Making me Marilyn," Rachel remarks snappily, but the light behind her words is muted. She's covered in egg shells, yolk, and serum. Taking a small hand, she tries to clear her face of the mess but it's too sticky. Finn takes his own hand and brushes her hair behind her ear, yolk and all.
"Marilyn Manson?" Finn asks, suddenly envisioning a very different version of Rachel Berry in front of him. Namely, one with more eyeliner and less eyebrows.
"Monroe. You know, happy birthday Mr. President...," Rachel half hums, sadly. "The sexy blond."
Finn smiles. "Well, you're halfway there: all you need's a bottle of hair dye and you're golden. Literally."
Rachel smiles. "Thanks for participating in my pity party, Finn, but you can go now. I've got to wash my hair out anyway before the ghosts of the baby chickens from inside these eggs come at me with a vengeance." She heads toward the sink.
"I can help you," he says. She looks up at his reflection in the mirror. "Ever since slushy wars, I got real good at cleaning crap out of my hair. I figure you could use the help... you've got a lot more than me. In a good way."
"Always the charmer," Rachel says, a small smile on her face. Finn pulls up two chairs to the sink and has Rachel lay her head back, hair in the sink. He turns the water on, lets it run hot. Steam fogs up the mirror. The girl's bathroom is silent for a few long minutes, just rinsing and combing with big hands and stubbly fingernails. Rachel closes her eyes and tries not to cry. It's hard.
"He called me out to the parking lot. I should have known something was wrong. I was just... so hopeful. That things could be back the way they were." Rachel stops and clears her throat. "The way he looked at me... as if I did something wrong." Rachel opens her eyes and stares up at Finn. "Did I do something wrong?"
Finn is quiet for a moment. "You've done a lot of things wrong in the time that I've known you: bossing people around, spying on Vocal Adrenaline, being more than a little obsessive in the brief time that we dated... but now, in this moment, in my book, which is the only book that counts, you're in the right. Yes, 'Run Joey Run' hurt my feelings, but not enough to explain what Jesse's been putting you through. The difference here is that Jesse doesn't love you, and he never did. His whole persona, the guy you fell for--it's a sham. A lie that he concocted with your mom. He created this melodrama that he lives inside, with you as one of the pawns in his game. I'm actually pretty sure he's even more of a diva than you are." Finn lets out a low laugh that Rachel reciprocates. "You deserve better than a lie. You're not a pawn. You're the queen, Rachel."
It all flows out like he's been planning it for months, but honestly Finn isn't even sure he knows what half the words he's spouting out mean, but somewhere along the line he sees Rachel's eyes widen and knows that he's somehow gotten through to her. Indirectly, Finn feels as though he's told her everything, even though he's only talking about that bastard St. James kid. Rachel sits up, her hair slick, clean, and wet, dripping down her back.
"Sometimes I think I do deserve it. For falling for the trap, I mean. I mean, you all told me that Jesse was playing me right from the start, but I ignored you--" Rachel's voice catches in her throat. "We sang Lionel Richie together the day we first met. God, we were good."
Finn scootches his chair closer to Rachel's. "You know what? As good as you might be together, as great as his talent his, no matter how much better he is than me technically... you know and I know that our chemistry is untouchable. Anyway, Rachel, anyone who makes you 'good' is doing you a disservice. You're great."
He leans in slow, a hand on each side of her face. First the tip of his nose touches her lip, which trembles at he approaches. Then their lips meet, and all is quiet.
For Finn, this kiss is a promise of protection. A chance to both build a fortress around Rachel that no one else can penetrate, and fill that castle with love and affection. Because not only is he a good guy, he is her guy, and has been for quite some time. In the back of his mind he's reminded of how he felt when he was with Quinn: a longing to protect, a desire to step up and be a man.
When they finish, Finn smoothes a tear away from her cheek and helps her to her feet. "I have some extra clothes in my locker. You'll be swimming in them, but they're better than the reminder of dead baby chickens, right?" Rachel sniffs and nods, tucking herself into his side as they exit the girl's bathroom.
"I guess that will make me Tony Curtis... I suppose I am unsurprised that you have flip-flopped my metaphor so that you are now the sexy blond. Touche."
Finn grins and pretends that he knows who Marilyn Monroe is besides the curvy figure and that photo of her dress going up. He is, however, content that she, Rachel, is looking up.
Outside the bathroom, Mercedes and Quinn are waiting, metaphorically (and literally) tapping their feet.
"I had to give five dollars to that chess club girl to stop her from going to Figgins about Finn and his man-parts in the girl's locker room," Mercedes informs them. "Y'all owe me two-fifty each."
"St. James will pay," Quinn growls mercilessly for Rachel's benefit. She takes one of Rachel's yolky hands. "You have my word. I'll have my water break on his patent leather shoes." Rachel laughs, loud now, and the four Gleeks walk down the hall together, united.
addendum
"I thought you were at the nurse? Didn't your stomach hurt?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
A wink between two friends. A smile between new (and old) lovers.
"You girls are good."
"Damn straight."